In war or peace, Winston Churchill's cigars were never far from his hand.

"Rarity in a desirable commodity is usually the cause of enhanced
value," Churchill wrote, "and there has never been a time when war
service was held in so much esteem by the military authorities or more
ardently sought by officers of every rank." The young Winston
understood such service was the road to distinction and fame. Lacking
any field of battle on which he might distinguish himself, Churchill
sought out a real live conflict. He wished it to be "a private
rehearsal, a secluded trip, in order to make sure that the ordeal was
not unsuited to my temperament."

This led him in 1895 to Cuba, which was then attempting to rebel from
the Spanish empire. Cuba was a place, he later wrote, "where real
things were going on. Here was a scene of vital action. Here was a
place where anything might happen. Here was a place where something
would certainly happen. Here I might leave my bones."

And it was in the Caribbean that Churchill's cigar smoking began in
earnest. Having arrived in Havana in November 1895, along with a
fellow officer named Reginald Barnes, and having been stood up at the
docks by the Spanish commandant who was to have met the two men,
Churchill and Barnes took a room at one of the best hotels in town and
spent the next several days living off of little more than two of the
local specialties, oranges and cigars. From that point on, Churchill
favored Cuban cigars above all others.

As Larry Arnn, an assistant to Martin Gilbert, Churchill's official
biographer, has said, "Thereafter, cigar and Cuban were synonymous for
Churchill." Indeed, among Churchill's favorite brands were Romeo y
Julieta and the now-defunct La Aroma de Cuba. He had a number of
regular suppliers of Havanas who kept him well-stocked with cigars
throughout his life, even during the prohibitive years of war. And at
Chartwell Manor, his country home in Kent, Churchill stocked between
3,000 and 4,000 cigars, mainly Cuban, in a room adjacent to his
study. The cigars were kept in boxes on shelves with labels reading
"large" and "small," "wrapped" and "naked" to distinguish the cigars'
sizes and whether or not they were wrapped in cellophane. Not
surprisingly, Churchill spent a great deal of money on his cigars over
the years. As one of his valets, Roy Howells, wrote in his book,
Simply Churchill, "It took me a little while to get used to the
fact that in two days his cigar consumption was the equivalent of my
weekly salary."

Perhaps no political figure is more readily associated with the
enthusiastic and regular enjoyment of cigars than Churchill. Few
informal photographs show him without one. And when a London
cartoonist depicted Churchill as a tommy gun-toting gangster, he
dubbed him "Cigarface." So integral was the cigar to everyone's image
of Churchill, that a jesting King George VI was once able to have some
fun at the expense of a few English pottery manufacturers who made
ceramic toby jug likenesses of Churchill smoking his trademark
cigar. According to one of Churchill's private secretaries, Phyllis
Moir, "When King George and Queen Elizabeth visited the pottery works,
the King examined the toby jugs with critical interest. 'I do not
think he smokes his cigars at such a low angle,' the King remarked
earnestly, thereby sending the pottery firm's executives into a
hurried conference on the slant of Winston Churchill's cigars."

Throughout most of Churchill's political career, he was inseparable
from his cigars. And he went to great lengths to make certain that he
would not have to abstain needlessly, even for short periods. On one
occasion, while serving as prime minister during the Second World War,
he was to take his first high-altitude airplane flight in an
unpressurized cabin. According to biographer Gilbert, when Churchill
went to the airfield on the evening before the flight to be fitted for
a flight suit and an oxygen mask, he conferred with the flight expert
who was to accompany him on the journey and requested that a special
oxygen mask be devised so that he could smoke his cigars while
airborne. The request was granted, and the next day Churchill was
happily puffing away at 15,000 feet through a special hole in his
oxygen mask.

On another occasion, in one of his later triumphs of the Second World
War, Churchill encountered and audaciously overcame daunting royal
opposition to two of his greatest loves. As prime minister, he hosted
a luncheon in February 1945 in honor of King Ibn Sa'ud of Saudi
Arabia. Churchill wrote about one aspect of this luncheon in his war
memoirs: "A number of social problems arose. I had been told that
neither smoking nor alcoholic beverages were allowed in the Royal
Presence. As I was the host at the luncheon I raised the matter at
once, and said to the interpreter that if it was the religion of His
Majesty to deprive himself of smoking and alcohol I must point out
that my rule of life prescribed as an absolutely sacred rite smoking
cigars and also the drinking of alcohol before, after and if need be
during all meals and in the intervals between them. The King
graciously accepted the position."

Churchill typically smoked between eight and 10 cigars per day,
although he did not constantly smoke his cigars but often allowed them
to burn out so that he could chew on them instead. In this manner of
consumption, the cigars often became mauled and frayed. To address
this problem, Churchill devised what he called a "bellybando," which
was a strip of brownish paper with a little glue on one end. To
prevent the cigar from becoming excessively moist and to keep it from
fraying, he would wrap the bellybando around the end.

The bellybandos also made it somewhat easier for Churchill to smoke so
many cigars every day, because they limited direct contact with the
tobacco and, therewith, Churchill's intake of nicotine. Churchill
smoked his cigars down to about the last one or two inches, and, later
in life, when he spent much of his time in the country at Chartwell,
his staff would save all of the ends of his cigars in order to give
them to one of the gardeners at Chartwell, a Mr. Kearnes, who liked to
break them up and smoke them in his pipe.

Churchill had received cigar cutters over the years as gifts and kept
one of them, a cigar piercer, attached to his watch chain. But he did
not use any of the cutters he owned on his cigars. He preferred to
moisten the end of the cigar and poke a hole through it with one of
the extra-long wooden matches he had specially imported in large
cartons from Canada. He would then blow through the cigar from the
other end to make sure it would draw. Finally, he would light it,
sometimes with the candle that he kept nearby in case the cigar went
out.

Churchill also had a favorite ashtray; it was made of silver and
shaped like a pagoda with a little trough at the top to hold his
cigar. This ashtray, a gift from a friend, was always at Churchill's
side and was even packed into a special little suitcase so he could
take it along wherever he traveled. "There was always a certain ritual
with the silver ashtray whenever he was away from home," writes
Howells. "On the Riviera it was ceremoniously handed over to the head
waiter of his private dining-room each day before lunch, and then
returned with great decorum after dinner."

While he was apparently very careful about tending to the unlit end of
his cigars with his bellybandos, Churchill was much less careful about
tending to the lit end of his cigars. Moir writes, "Hostesses
invariably complained that wherever he went he left behind him a trail
of cigar ash on their valuable carpets." If he dropped cigar ash on
his hostesses' carpets, he also frequently dropped ash on
himself. Moir says that the two images of Churchill which remained
most prominent in her mind after leaving his employment were of
Churchill pacing a room while composing a speech and of Churchill
"sunk deep in the depths of a huge armchair, a little mound of
silver-gray cigar ash piled on his well rounded midriff."

He not only frequently dropped ash on his clothes, but he also had a
tendency to burn his clothing. "Sir Winston's suits," writes Howells,
"were constantly going in for repair because of holes caused by cigar
burns. He used to burn his suits this way when he became too engrossed
in reading; the cigar would droop slightly and catch the lapel."
Indeed, the problem became sufficiently great, according to Edmund
Murray, who was Churchill's bodyguard for a time, that Churchill's
wife, Clementine, designed a kind of a bib for him to wear in bed to
help prevent him from burning his silk pajamas.

Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill was born in 1874 to an American
mother, Lady Randolph Churchill (nee Jennie Jerome), and an English
father, Lord Randolph Churchill, a famous Victorian member of
Parliament. Referring to the dual nationality of his parentage in a
1941 speech to a Joint Session of the United States Congress,
Churchill quipped to his audience: "I cannot help reflecting that if
my father had been American and my mother British, instead of the
other way round, I might have got here on my own."

When Churchill was 13, he enrolled in the Harrow School, perhaps the
most prestigious school in England after Eton. He was undistinguished
as a student. Indeed, he was last in his class for much of his time at
Harrow. This meant at least two things: He did not study Latin and
Greek but instead mastered the use of the English language; and he did
not go on to a university but instead went to the Royal Military
College, Sandhurst--England's West Point--where he was trained as a
cavalry officer.

His early school record notwithstanding, Churchill was a man of
prodigious genius and accomplishment. He was one of history's greatest
statesmen, and he may be the greatest orator of the twentieth
century. He was a decorated soldier who saw action in four wars. He
was a Nobel prize-winning writer of history, an acclaimed novelist and
a skilled polo player. He was an accomplished painter as well as a
licensed craftsman. He was an epicure, a connoisseur of the finest
wines and cigars and a consummate gentleman.

And his accomplishments started early. By the time he turned 26,
Churchill had seen action in three of England's imperial wars and had
been decorated for valor in battle. He had been taken prisoner of war
and had escaped from captivity. He had written no less than four
highly praised histories of three of the wars he had experienced:
The Malakand Field Force, The River War, London to
Ladysmith via Pretoria and Ian Hamilton's March. He also
had written a novel called Savrola about a fictitious statesman
and master orator. In addition to these and other remarkable
accomplishments, Churchill, at 25, was elected a member of Parliament.

After his "private rehearsal" in Cuba, Churchill was to perform most
magnificently as a young soldier and reporter in three of England's
colonial wars--first in India, next in the Sudan and finally in South
Africa. Indeed, he performed perhaps too brilliantly at times. It was
Churchill's ambition to manifest unconcern with the hazards of combat,
and he was exceedingly daring on the battlefield. "I am more ambitious
for a reputation for personal courage," he wrote to his mother from
India, "than [for] anything else in the world." At times, Churchill
positively seemed to enjoy the perils of war. "The game amuses
me--dangerous though it is--and I shall stay as long as I can," he
wrote in another letter. And, in The Malakand Field Force, he
proclaimed, "Nothing in life is so exhilarating as to be shot at
without result."

Concerned about sentiments such as these and about the tales she was
receiving from him and others of his extraordinary exploits in battle,
Churchill's mother wrote to him to express her anxiety. Churchill soon
wrote back to allay any fears she might have had about his dying on
the battlefield: "I am so conceited, I do not believe the Gods would
create so potent a being as myself for so prosaic an ending."

In addition to the military exercises and an occasional battle,
Churchill devoted himself during his years in India to the serious
study of history, philosophy and economics. He called this period "my
university years." The English historians Edward Gibbon and Thomas
Babington Macaulay were easily his favorite writers and arguably those
to whom Churchill's own rhetorical style is most indebted. In
describing his 800-page epic, The River War, for example,
Churchill wrote, "I affected a combination of the styles of Macaulay
and Gibbon...and I stuck in a bit of my own from time to time."

In 1899, Churchill left the army to run, unsuccessfully, for
Parliament and to write newspaper articles and a book. It was as a
newspaper columnist that Churchill, in October of that year, traveled
to South Africa to observe the Boer war of independence against the
British Empire. In South Africa, Churchill was traveling with a
soldier friend aboard a train carrying English troops that was
ambushed and derailed by the Boers. While exhibiting great valor in
coordinating the escape of many of the troops who were aboard the
train, Churchill was captured by the Boers and taken as a prisoner of
war.

Although treated well by his captors, he later wrote of his time as a
POW, "I certainly hated every minute of my captivity more than I have
ever hated any other period in my whole life." He hated captivity
above all because it thwarted his ambition for heroic action: "The war
was going on, great events are in progress, fine opportunities for
action and adventure are slipping away." So, after unsuccessfully
appealing his capture on the grounds that he was a noncombatant,
Churchill escaped from prison. Before escaping, however, he left a
letter of apology on his bed to Louis de Souza, the Boer secretary for
war. The letter began: "I have the honour to inform you that as I do
not consider that your Government have any right to detain me as a
military prisoner, I have decided to escape from your custody." It
ended: "Regretting that I am unable to bid you a more ceremonious or a
personal farewell, I have the honour to be, Sir, your most obedient
servant, Winston Churchill."

The colonial wars of India and Africa were the sort of conflict for
which Churchill and his fellow officers had longed in the days shortly
after they graduated from Sandhurst: "This kind of war was full of
fascinating thrills. It was not like the Great War. Nobody expected to
be killed."

Less than 15 years after the war in South Africa, however, came the
first fully modern war, "The Great War," "Armageddon"--the First World
War. "The age of Peace had ended," Churchill wrote in one of his
memoirs, My Early Life. "There was to be no lack of war. There
was to be enough for all. Aye, enough to spare." At the time of the
outbreak of the First World War, Churchill was serving as first lord
of the Admiralty. He had spent the previous three years successfully
preparing the British navy for war. He continued to serve as head of
the admiralty through most of 1915. He also advised the War Office on
land strategy and tactics during this time.

Churchill's understanding of the true nature of the war on sea and
land was complete. He saw events from a clearer perspective than most
of his contemporaries. Churchill's insights on the war are recounted
at considerable length in his five-volume The World Crisis, a
work that ranks with the greatest books ever written on warfare. No
less an authority than T.E. Lawrence, "Lawrence of Arabia," who as a
scholar and translator of Latin and Greek was well acquainted with the
greatest Western classics of military history, called The World
Crisis "far and away the best war book I have yet read in any
language."

Seeking to better understand the war on land, in October 1914
Churchill visited the front lines in France. While there, he was
observed by an Italian journalist, Gino Calza Bedelo. Bedelo's account
of Churchill, according to Gilbert, became somewhat famous around
London shortly after it was given in a talk at the Lyceum Club: "I was
in the battle line near Lierre, and in the midst of a group of
officers stood a man. He was still young, and was enveloped in a
cloak, and on his head wore a yachtsman's cap. He was tranquilly
smoking a large cigar and looking at the progress of the battle under
a rain of shrapnel, which I can only call fearful. It was
Mr. Churchill, who had come to view the situation himself. It must be
confessed that it is not easy to find in the whole of Europe a
Minister who would be capable of smoking peacefully under that
shellfire. He smiled, and looked quite satisfied."

In 1915, when Churchill returned to the front as a major, after
resigning as head of the admiralty, he was to make quite a similar
impression on his fellow officers and subordinate soldiers. And he was
to have the same effect on his colleagues at Downing Street during the
countless German air raids over London in the Second World War. At all
times, his fearlessness seemed to know no limits, and nearly everyone
who came into contact with Churchill under dire circumstances was most
impressed by it.

Throughout the 1920s, Churchill served in a number of ministerial
posts, and his political career was punctuated by a few political
triumphs as well as an occasional setback. The most significant
setback of this period was the Conservative Party's defeat in the 1929
general election. With that defeat, Churchill was put out of cabinet
office. Thus began what Churchill called his "wilderness" years, the
years spent out of responsible office and away from all vital decision
making, a period that would last for over a decade. Churchill passed
considerable time during these years at Chartwell, his beautiful
country home in Kent, which he had purchased in 1922 with royalties
from The World Crisis.

Life at Chartwell in the 1930s was a marked change from Churchill's
earlier political and military adventures. He did keep busy,
however. "I never had a dull or idle moment from morning till
midnight," he later wrote, "and with my happy family around me dwelt
at peace within my habitation." While still remaining politically
active, he was able to spend a great deal of his time on what may be
called noble leisure--reading, writing, painting and dining with
friends and family.

Dining was always a major event at Chartwell. Churchill preferred
simple but sumptuous meals. "Whatever the Good Earth offers, I am
willing to take" he once told a chef at the Waldorf-Astoria. Churchill
often dined with friends, dignitaries and celebrities from Europe and
America. T.E. Lawrence was a regular luncheon guest until his untimely
death in 1935. Albert Einstein visited Chartwell. And Charlie Chaplin
dined there, as well. Churchill was notorious for dominating
conversations in even the most illustrious of company. As Prime
Minister Herbert Henry Asquith once said of Churchill, "His
conversation...is apt to degenerate into a monologue."

Fortunately, Churchill's wit on such occasions was equally well
known. At one Chartwell dinner, for example, he asked Charlie Chaplin
what his next role would be. "Jesus Christ," Chaplin replied; to which
Churchill responded, "Have you cleared the rights?"

And Churchill was always a most gracious host. "It is a marvel how
much time he gives to his guests," remarked one visitor to Chartwell,
"talking sometimes for an hour after lunch and much longer after
dinner. He is an exceedingly kind and generous host, providing
unlimited Champagne, cigars and brandy."

Churchill loved Champagne, and it always accompanied lunch and dinner
at Chartwell. He also enjoyed Port, claret, Scotch and brandy. His
favorite Champagne was Pol Roger, his favorite Scotch, Johnnie Walker
Red Label, and his favorite brandy, Hine. Once a friend of
Churchill's, South African Prime Minister Jan Christian Smuts, brought
him a bottle of South African brandy. Churchill savored a sip of it
and, looking appreciatively at his friend, said, "My dear Smuts, it is
excellent." He paused, then added, "But it is not brandy."

Real brandy, as author William Manchester put it, was usually
consumed after dinner along with, of course, a cigar. After a couple
of snifters, Churchill would stay up late reading or writing, often
until three or four in the morning, only to awaken a scant five hours
later. Churchill sometimes started the morning with a glass of Scotch
and soda in bed, and he drank continuously throughout the
day. According to Manchester, "There is always some alcohol in his
bloodstream, and it reaches its peak late in the evening after he has
had two or three Scotches, several glasses of Champagne, at least two
brandies, and a highball."

He was rarely drunk, however. "All I can say is that I have taken more
out of alcohol than it has taken out of me," Churchill famously
remarked. Even drunk, he was usually in top form. Indeed, Labour Party
M.P. Bessie Braddock once had the misfortune of accusing Churchill of
drunkenness in public. "You're drunk!" she scolded. "Yes," he
retorted, "and you are ugly, but tomorrow I shall be sober."

Thank you for the recent copy you sent to my home I had an active paid for account but some how I never heard from you guys again after a couple on months were sent to me,can you possibly look into this and let me know what happened to my subscription??

David Savona March 18, 2013 10:49am ET

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